Nightstalker:2008
by Julian Weathertop
Summary: Updated first Chapter. Two people in Las Vegas and led by a mysterious woman to discover strange happenings in the modern day. Is history repeating itself? All reviews are welcome.
1. So it Begins

Las Vegas

The police chief was not in a good mood. He and his wife had been trying to have a special night but had been interrupted several times during dinner. It made for a rushed evening that continued until they made it home; he had hoped to be able to linger a bit. At two in the morning he had just felt her run a fingernail down his spine and ask if he was asleep yet. Like magic, his cell rang. Even worse, it was from the morgue. The chief examiner was in for some godforsaken reason, insisting he come down immediately but couldn't say why over the phone. He promised his wife that he would rush as fast as he could.

He pushed the doors open with a crash bellowing, "Larry, this had better be good."

Larry MacDonald, M.E. for Las Vegas stood next to a shroud covered body. "John, this is anything but good." He nodded to an aged attendant to pull the sheet back.

John Lehman, the police chief took a look at the body. "So what? It looks like a vagrant with a slashed throat, hardly breaking news."

"Todd has been here for almost forty years," The M.E. indicated the attendant.

Lehman acknowledged the attendant, "Good work, I could never handle the creepiness but explain why I am here instead of snuggled warm in my bed."

MacDonald handed over a clip board while Todd spoke to the chief, "In my first couple of years here there were some unusual killings. The wounds and cause of death led in a very strange direction. The killer was eventually found and died during apprehension."

"How does this connect?" Lehman read intently, and then started to read a second page. After a moment he began to flip between the first and second.

"That second one is from 1970. Todd noticed the similarities right away. He convinced me to come down to check in person."

Lehman looked at the wounds on the neck again. "There are differences."

"Yes, but internally almost identical."

"You're not trying to tell me…,"

"I'm not telling you anything John, just pointing out that it is similar."

"Why have I never heard of this before?" He indicated the older case.

"It was apparently buried pretty deep. I never heard a peep until tonight myself."

Lehman drummed his fingers for a moment, "A vagrant with no family?" MacDonald nodded, "Bury him in the same hole. No need to make a big deal about it."

MacDonald shook his head and handed Lehman another clipboard. "We missed it before tonight. This one is not the first."

Two Weeks Later, Texas

She just finished the tallying the night's receipts when the phone rang. A quick  
look at the caller ID screen showed all zeros. "Piece of junk she mumbled", picking up the receiver, "Hello"

"Bonsoir mademoiselle" an accented male voice spoke, "I trust I am not calling at an inconvenient time."

"No, it's not inconvenient but who are you trying to reach?"

"Mademoiselle, we have neither met nor spoken before, you do not know me, however I know who you are. Most importantly perhaps, I know what you have done."

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about. If this is some kind of joke,

I am not finding it funny."

"This is no joke mademoiselle. Perhaps it would prove the veracity of my knowledge if I asked you the last time you performed in the circus? I could speak of New York and Los Angeles; would you like biographical details?"

The room suddenly felt much colder. "Who are you and what do you want."

"Yes, you will need to call me something won't you." The voice mused, "You may refer to me as Cardinal."

"Like the bird?"

"Yes, it will work. I shall call you Raven, if you do not object."

"Interesting choice, juvenile but interesting."

"I thought you might appreciate the reference. As you deduced, there is something I would like you to do. There was an organization you are a former member of. It has, shall we say, fallen on difficult times of late."

"I have nothing to do with that."

"I know. I can account for your whereabouts at several critical times. The work those dedicated people did is missed by some. The survivors are rather busy these days."

"And you want me to return to being a member? I did not leave under the best of circumstances."

"No, I have no desire to see the past repeat itself. I would like you to recruit and guide a new generation."

"Excuse me, I don't think I heard that correctly."

"You heard correct. There was some controversy about your selection but I was able to convince my fellows that you are both capable and trustworthy. I do not expect you to create an equal organization, just plant a seed or two and give some direction. Everything will grow from there. Will you do this?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"There are always choices." Cardinal answered. "You believe that there is an implied threat however, I can tell you that if you refuse, there will be no repercussions. It will be as if this call never happened"

"Can I believe that?" she asked.

"You only have my word. Whether you accept or refuse, the record on you will be sealed and you can live as you see fit."

"And if I accept?"

"You can go out to your car and you will find a key to a bus locker on the front driver's side tire. In the locker is the money and materials you will need to begin. Also there will be an email address to contact me."

"You are pretty confident."

"I have faith in human nature" He answered with a slight chuckle. "If I may suggest, a good start would be in the modern Gomorrah."

With a click, line went dead.


	2. A New Client

It all began on a Wednesday evening while having dinner in the office with Jax. Jax is Jacqueline Winchester, the young psychiatrist who works in an office across the hall from mine. Jax is an elegant lady who likes to wear a pair of narrow eyeglasses that give her a studious, almost nerdish look. Most people do not realize that they are for show; she believes the look gives her patients more confidence to open up when in session. She typically has an amused expression as she travels through life. It gives you the idea that she has a big secret you would be shocked to learn. After the day's work is done, Jax will take off her glasses, giving a better view of her green eyes and let down her rich auburn hair. Nerdish would no longer be a term any red-blooded man would use to describe her.

Jax, like many of the women who work late in the building, will often stop by my one man PI/ bounty hunter/ bodyguard operation to see if I am around. They like it when I can escort them to their vehicles. The Vegas strip may be safe all hours of the day but our location several blocks off does not have the same reputation. Having once been a wrestler with Olympic dreams and standing six-four, tipping the scales into the 120 kilo range, I am a comfortable presence on those late walks to the car. Sometimes, if I do not need to go on a job right away, Jax will stay and share a meal. We have a mutual love of spicy Asian foods.

I was in the middle of devouring a plate of Hunan Beef while Jax ate her favorite, Sesame Chicken, when a client knocked and let herself in. The woman was tall, near six foot with jet black hair, a pale complexion and electric blue eyes. She could have passed herself off for any age between seventeen and thirty-five, but would definitely be carded in a bar. Her power business clothes, real leather briefcase and attitude all screamed money. She took the seat in front of my desk and got straight to business.

"Mr. Addison?" Her voice was soothing and musical, though not as deep as I expected.

"Yes, I shore am." Jax liked her glasses; I liked to put on a good ole boy show. Make people think I'm dumber than I actually am.

"I am here in the interests of Angela Rockford."

"The actress?"

"The same, Ms Rockford has had the misfortune to have lost a credit card. A person or persons have been taking advantage of the situation at Ms Rockford's expense."

"Have you gone to the police?" I interrupted.

"Yes," she continued, "Ms Rockford thinks the local police are buffoons who are not taking this seriously. Ms Rockford has instructed me to hire someone who will work for her alone to track down the perpetrator and recover as much of the merchandise as possible. Will you and your assistant take this job?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jax begin to say something when this woman referred to her as my assistant but stopped before actually speaking. Now she glanced my way and gave a near imperceptible nod. Mentally shrugging, I answered, "Sure, we'll take it. Jest let me just get one of mah contract forms out."

"No, if you don't mind. We would like this done very quietly. Cash paid for a handshake deal and definitely no press."

"It's mighty irregular, but I suppose I could do it that way."

"Excellent, here is a retainer" she handed me five hundred dollar bills, snapped her satchel shut and rose to leave. "I have every confidence in you and will be in touch again shortly. Please enjoy the rest of your meal, which I apologize for interrupting."

As the door closed behind her, Jax summed it up in one word, "Odd".

"Ain't that the truth"

"You can drop that good ol' boy act Gabe. I know you way too well to fall for it."

"I guess, being my _assistant_ and all. What's up with that Jax?

"I don't know; it just sounded like fun. Would you mind if I tagged along?"

"What about your practice?

"I don't have anything critical in the next week. I can get the others to cover for me. Besides, I'm intrigued."

"Why's that?"

"Three reasons. First, I've never known you to take a job, just on a client's word."

"It happens. Rarely," I admitted, "but it happens."

"OK, second, five hundred up front seems high for you to do this. No offense."

"It does seem high but I think I'm worth it," I grinned back to show I took none.

"Okay, I'll accept that but the last and biggest reason," she pointed her chopsticks at the door, holding a piece of chicken. "Tell me that woman's name."

I sat there realizing that she never said, and I never thought to ask. Jax just smiled and popped the chicken into her mouth.


	3. Too Easy

It was Thursday night, warm and clear as most are here. We sat in my truck outside of a run down house in that section of town every major city has. You know the one, with the light to medium industries, yet there are always a few old houses of residents too stubborn to move or too unlucky to have had anyone make an offer for their place. Our example was a small yellow two story in need of serious TLC.

"Too Easy."

"What?" asked Jax.

"It was too easy to find this place," I answered. "Starting with about zilch, I've been able to track fraudulent purchases to an address in less than a day. The police could have run it down between doughnut stops."

Jax broke into laughter. She had a new wardrobe for the night's outing. A dark sweat suit and ball cap, which I would have completely approved of if not for the CSI: Las Vegas logo on ever item, down to socks and underwear I assumed. "Maybe you are just that good."

"Not likely," I snorted. "This just doesn't feel right. Does that look like a house that has three plasma TVs in it?"

"No," Jax admitted, "but I don't know what it should look like. I don't think thieves often hang signs on the front door that say 'HIDEOUT'."

A grunt was enough of a reply. I sat drumming my finger for a couple of minutes while Jax began to fidget impatiently. Two motorcyclists roared past. I saw they had colors, _The King's Men- Tupelo MS. _I had seen a lot of bikes today and they looked familiar for a moment. Maybe I'm just getting paranoid. "I'm going up to take a look, you wait here."

"No way," Jax replied. "This neighborhood is creepy. I'm coming with."

"Suit yourself, but I feel they we're being played."

We took a stroll around the property first. An ill- tended yard, no garage and no real signs that we weren't looking at an abandoned house.

"What's your plan?" Jax asked as I leaned against a pole down the block.

I contemplated for a moment then came to a decision. Straightening my hat, I told her, "Hey diddle diddle, straight up the middle. I'm going to knock at the door, see if the occupants have accepted Jesus Christ as their own personal Savior. Sure you don't want to wait in the truck?"

"I'm sticking with you boss."

We walked up and knocked, once, twice and thrice. I looked through a window in the door. It appeared to be an average, if unremarkable house inside, better taken care of than the outside. I could see a light near the back, maybe in the kitchen. I was about to tell Jax to wait while I went around back when a woman's scream for help could be heard from inside.

"Call nine-one-one," I told her while gently pushing her to the side. I then kicked the door with my good foot, breaking the door open. Really wishing I had brought the pistol I am licensed for, I took out my small flash light and ran inside.

I stopped in amazement. Outside I could hear Jax talking to the police dispatcher. Inside the house was a dusty wreck. There was no light from the back. I could not see any furniture that was still in one piece. The walls had holes in the plaster, the floor had loose papers, trash and mattresses from squatters but it appeared that no one had been inside for months.

"The police are on the way," Jax informed me stepping inside. She stopped as well, equally confused. "Maybe the scream came from upstairs?"

At that moment the sound of laughter could be heard upstairs, followed by applause. Obviously a TV show. I reached out to a light switch at hand and turned it on. Nothing happened.

"Somebody's messing with us, and I don't like it." I turned around, "Let's get out of here and wait on the cops."

The door slammed with a bang causing Jax to leap right into me. She made no move to step away, "I have to say, Gabe, I'm starting to get nervous here."

"Me too," I answered, feeling her tremble against me. I felt a chill as well and realized it was not just the situation. It felt cold inside this house. I didn't remember that from a moment ago. I tried to pull the door open, but it was jammed. It couldn't have locked as I saw the damage I had done kicking it in.

"Let's get out the back," Jax pleaded. It was cold enough now that I could see her breath.

A loud crash came from upstairs and the TV stopped. In the silence a soft creaking could be heard. Now I was getting mad. Muttering obscenities I started up the steps. "I'm finding out what is going on here and whoever is doing this is going to have a really bad day."

"Gabe, the police are coming," Jax reminded me. "Let's just get out of here."

Good advice but I was now mad and not thinking clearly. I kept going. From the sounds, Jax was right behind me. The upper hall had the same neglect as below less trash and more graffiti but otherwise the same. I threw open doors not bothering to be quiet I had opened two doors, looking into a bedroom and a bathroom when Jax let out a piercing scream. She ran into my arms nearly in tears.

"What is it?" I asked.

She pointed to a third door. "In there. A woman is hanging."

Now I knew Jax had to be really scared. She had a medical degree and a body should not be anything terrifying to her. I stepped around her and looked into the room. I saw a broken TV on the floor and a noose hanging from a ceiling fan. "Where is the woman?" I asked puzzled.

Jax followed me in and looked at the noose. "She was there," her brow wrinkled, "I know I saw a woman there."

I heard a distant siren approaching then footsteps downstairs. A door slammed and a couple of big Harleys started. "Why sonofabitch," I exclaimed. "Come on."

I grabbed Jax arm and ran down stairs. As I expected the front door was open again. I looked out but the bikes were already gone. The police were just arriving.

"Those bikers were messing with us."

Jax seemed much better now that we were out and help had arrived. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "but our mystery woman has more than a couple of questions to answer."

An hour later found us back in my office more confused than ever. The police checked the house then questioned us separately for quite a while then brought us together and went over the story again. Jax insisted she had seen a body while I explained that I only saw the noose hanging.

"There is no noose, "the officer told us.

"In the room with the broken TV," I told him.

"I know which room it is; I'm the one that cut it down," he paused, "five years ago."

"What?"

"I've heard of your rep, Addison. It's that you are a good guy for a civilian so I'm not running you and the Doc in. There are also footprints and tracks from motorcycles in the back that match your story. Why would some bikers want to give you a scare?"

"I have no idea. I don't even know if they are connected. I didn't see them leaving so I can't say if they're the same ones." I took a proverbial step backwards, "Explain about the noose and five years ago."

"Wait here a minute." He sent the other two squads away and turned his lights off. He then leaned on his car and waved us over.

"Five years ago an old woman lived here, Hanson was the name. Old, lonely and full of cancer so one night she figures enough is enough, makes a noose stands on the TV and takes a leap. A couple of weeks later we get a call about a smell. I'm one of the lucky ones who get the call. Not a pretty sight let me tell you and I'll skip the details. We wrap it up as a suicide quickly, me being the last out with the broken TV left on the floor.

Jump ahead a year and to another call, same address only this time we have a dead John Doe, died in his sleep of unknown natural causes according to the ME."

"You didn't accept that?" Jax asked.

He hesitated working with an internal struggle. "Hell with it, you're a shrink maybe you can explain but if you repeat anything I'll deny it all and make sure you get towed at least once a month for a year."

He didn't seem to be joking.

"We had a couple of trespass calls before John Doe, but never caught anybody. There were signs that people had been inside so the place was boarded up."

"It isn't now," I pointed out.

"Nope," he agreed, "never stays that way. Always, some evening, somebody goes by and pull all of the boards. Every window and door, nobody sees who did it nobody hears anything." He shook his head. "Getting back to our JD, when we found him he was in the corner like he tripped backwards over the mattress, eyes open. I expect a broken neck or head injury but ME says no, just slight bruising from a fall.

Couple years later I hear about another body found, new JD fell down the stairs. Boards go up; boards go away until another year passes. I get my third DB call. We identify this one, local vagrant, cause of death heart failure."

"But…," I give the lead.

"But we found him at the back door, hands wrapped around the knob of an unlocked door." The officer sighed. "Poor bastard had streaks of tears on his face."

Jax was looking back at the house with so much history, "Why don't they tear the place down."

He grimaced, "Three months after the last one it's decided to do just that. They bring out a crane and dozer; crane won't fire up so the operator goes to get his buddy from the dozer to help. He finds the other guy out front; somehow he got himself under the blade when a piston failed, cut him clean in two. Cause of death: industrial accident."

"You don't believe it?"

"Awful lot of coincidence," he was staring at the house, "awful lot. If it would cost be my badge, it would burn."

"You are thinking it is haunted?" Jax asked.

He didn't reply for a minute, just looking at the house. "You're the doc, you tell me. Are there such things as ghosts?" He turned his attention back to us. "But I never said anything of the sort now did I?" He flipped his notebook shut and handed each of us his card. "Nope, all we have here tonight is some concerned citizens called in a disturbance. Investigation revealed possible breaking and entering and maybe some vandalism. No perps found. You never even went inside; the report says so."

He walked around to the door of his car, "Just some kids pranking you tonight. Go home and forget about it." He paused before getting in his car. "That year in between when no one died we picked up a drifter here. He was out of his head, rambling on and on, making no sense. He eventually ended up in probate and still is locked away telling tales about things he saw. Probably will stay locked forever, but sometimes I think we are doing him a disservice and should let him go. I bet he'd leave town as fast as he could."


	4. A Meeting Arranged

Jax and I drove back to my office in silence. We went in and sat for about five minutes without saying a word. I then reached in my bottom drawer and pulled out a couple of cups and a bottle of bourbon. Yes, I know it is cliché but sometimes it is just what the doctor ordered. We sipped for another couple minutes until Jax broke the silence.

"Sorry for wigging out there on you. I've seen plenty of dead bodies but it just surprised me. Given the creepiness and, well you know."

"Yes I do know." I tossed the last of my liquor down in a gulp. "Besides we didn't see any body remember? No body, no noose no nothing according to LVPD."

"But...," was as far as Jax could go trying to put her thoughts into words. It was exactly one word more than I could manage. The phone rang and I answered.

"Good evening," our mystery lady greeted. I immediately hit the speaker button and started my recorder.

"Just a person I was thinking I needed to talk to." It took an effort to be polite and professional.

"I do believe you had an eventful night."

"And how would you know that?"

"Some acquaintances of mine happened to be near you."

I lost a bit of control, "Those bikers you had set us up. Look lady, whoever you are, I took you job, _we_ took you job on good faith, not to be part of a fraternity prank. If games and entertainment is all you want, well come and get your money. That's not what I'm about."

"Calm yourself please Mr. Addison. Nobody is playing games. I do admit to a bit of misdirection but you have preformed well and I consider the job complete. The money is yours. My associates were there for your protection and to observe. They did not add to the experience."

"Then what the hell did happen."

She stepped right around that question, "I have another proposal for you two. I will be up front this time. You will be doubtful and there will be risks. It would be a partnership of sorts."

"With you?"

"At times, maybe others involved at other times. If you accept it would be ongoing and will not pay well. I cannot really tell you more over the phone."

"Have you ever considered going into sales?" I asked sarcastically.

"Indeed," she laughed, "we should talk face to face, somewhere you are very comfortable. I will give you some background and my proposal; if you refuse we will never meet again, deal?"

I looked at Jax and she nodded. "Ok, we'll listen. Where should we meet?"

"My place," Jax said surprising me.

"Thank you; may I have your address Miss?"

"Doctor actually," Jax had a sly smile, "Doctor Jacqueline Winchester and if you are good enough, you will be able to find the place."

Our called paused for a moment before replying, "My apologies Doctor, I misunderstood the situation. Very well, the challenge is a fair one. Mr. Addison, if you will pick me up in front of Caesar's at say 8 pm, we will then pay a call on Dr. Winchester."

"I'll be there," I promised, "but you neglected to give us your name." I winked at Jax.

"A friend calls me Raven, that will do. Until tomorrow, _dobranoc_."


	5. Jax Place

Raven was waiting in front of Caesar's Palace, just as promised. She was again dressed elegantly and put my jeans to shame. So be it; she's city, I'm country. Yet she had no problem climbing into my truck and made no comment about the Johnny Cash I was listening to. Maybe I shouldn't rush to judge.

"Good evening Mr. Addison. Thank you for offering to give me a ride."

"Raven," I only let a bit of a drawl into my voice, "if we are going to be partners, you should start calling me Gabe."

A cat's smile spread across her face. "Let us keep things formal for just a little while longer, shall we? Once we have our talk tonight, you may hope to never see me again."

"Have it your way boss, do you know where we're supposed to go?"

She read an address on Paradise Road, near the Hilton. I let out a low whistle, "I knew Jax had some money, being a doctor and all but _that_ is some high-priced property."

We made the rest of the trip in silence; Raven seemed to be lost in thought. We arrived at the complex and were passed through the gate. The attendant was extremely polite and pleasant, but I had the impression he felt like he was sir-ing a bug. Ever the gentleman, after parking in the visitor area, I ran around to open Raven's door and help her out.

"Ms. Raven, Mr. Addison," the doorman greeted us, "you are expected, this way if you please."

He escorted us to a private elevator and sent us on up. We didn't go quite to the top, but close. Raven stood perfectly still during the ride, giving the impression she could do that for hours if needed. It was the attitude of a patient predator and it was kind of giving me the creeps. She was gorgeous, but dangerous.

The elevator opened into the foyer where Jax was waiting, dressed casually. The entrance was professionally decorated in a rich wood and recessed lighting. It seemed to be as large as my entire apartment and I knew I couldn't have afforded to decorate just this small area with a years pay.

"Wow," I said.

"Thanks," she replied.

"No, I meant this place." Jax put on a pout as I realized what I had just said. "I mean I didn't mean you. That is yes, you look terrific, I mean this place, and you, that is, I." I could feel my ears turning red.

Jax changed to a mischievous smile, "All compliments are accepted equally and thank you for all of them."

"Well now that we have that high school encounter out of the way," Raven said watching with obvious amusement. She still stood in the elevator. "Ms Winchester, may I have your permission to enter?"

"Yes, of course, you are always welcome. Come on in and let's get comfortable."

Raven walked past as I stood still taking it in. "Close your mouth Mr. Addison, you may start drooling."

I chuckled and followed her in. Looking back before closing the front door, I was unable to shake the feeling that I had just missed something important.

Jax was giving a tour of her humble abode. "This hall was the guest area. I had the bedrooms changed so I have a den at the end, with its own balcony and here is an office. We are passing the bathroom, please take note. Here is the kitchen, someday I may figure out how to use it."

We laughed at the joke. I looked in; it was bigger than my living room done in all modern stainless steel appliances. To be honest, it didn't appear much used.

"My room id the next door down," Jax continued, "far too messy for company. Coming to our left was the dining room. I thought a bar would be far more useful. You can obviously see the living room and balcony."

I paused in amazement. This area was bigger than my whole apartment. The living room was sunk two steps down and very tastefully furnished in a modern motif. Where you would have expected a TV instead was a gas fireplace. Not what I would have expected in Las Vegas but it made the area very homey. The wet bar appeared to be fully stocked, which was a puzzle since Jax has mentioned not being much of a drinker. A Wurlitzer juke box sat at the far end, surrounded by a state of the art sound system. Behind the bar the wall was covered in a smoked mirror which reflected an impressive view out the windows.

"A lovely place you have Ms Winchester." Raven stood on the balcony looking out towards the strip.

"Thank you."

"Not to be crass, but may I ask what it cost?"

Jax laughed, "Enough over 2 mil that it is painful to write the check out every month."

I nearly gave myself whiplash spinning towards Jax. "You mean this apartment costs over two million dollars?" I exclaimed.

"It's a condo Gabe," she corrected. "They wanted a down payment of five hundred but by going eight, I could keep my monthly below twelve. Would you like a beer?"

"You're talking in thousands of dollars right? Like a down payment of eight hundred _thousand_ dollars and paying twelve _thousand_ a month?"

"Family money does me no good in the bank." She shrugged, almost embarrassed. Jax was not boasting or showing off, I realized. It was just that she though of money on a different scale than I did. "That and I have been lucky enough to get retainer on a few high-profilenuts, er clients, to take care of when they come to Vegas. That makes my office in the back a tax write off. I get paid quite well for discretion which I would give out anyway."

"Aren't you a bit young for such a clientele Ms. Winchester?"

"Bless you Miss Raven." Jax laughed again. "Actually that is exactly what brought some to me. They believe I 'get' them more."

I had to sit to absorb all of this. I never suspected my friend moved in such lofty circles. A little voice in the back of my head questioned why she liked to hang out with a hick like me, when obviously she could be spending her nights going to some exclusive places. I stepped on that voice. "I'll take a whisky if that is ok."

"Would Jameson do?"

"Um, sure."

Raven came in and sat across from me, "A sherry if you please."

Jax passed out the drinks and sat next to me. I took a sip then stopped to look at my glass. "Jax, what is this?"

"Um," she craned her head to take a look, "Middleton I think it said."

Here I sat, in a millionaire's high-rise condo, drinking her top shelf booze. Realizing my life could not get any more surreal than it was at this point, I jumped in to the business of the evening.

"So Raven, what the _hell_ was last night about and what could you be proposing that has any connection."

She sat for a moment at first seeming unsure of herself. "Doctor, could we have the lights dimmer and that fireplace on?"

Jax called out to the room, "Lights, dim level one, fire on." Automatically it happened, wow again.

"Stories are best told at the campfire," Raven looked


	6. Campfire Stories

"Your experiences have been disconcerting," Raven began, "troubling, alarming even. What I have done is given you a peak inside a window."

"You jerked us around you mean." I was still testy over the whole matter.

"Not exactly but it may appear that way. There is much in this world that is difficult to explain. UFOs, Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster top the pop culture list, many more are less noted. Should you look deeper, many things are easily explained, hoaxes or turn out to be merely illusion. Are you following me?"

"So what you're telling us is that we were in the equivalent of a stage magician's act."

"Let me revisit that in a moment. I said many things are explained, but not all. Sometimes there are explanations but they aren't very good or conversely are too good and wrap a phenomenon into a neat package with a bow, maybe too good.

Is every Bigfoot sighting a crackpot looking for publicity? Every Loch Ness picture a hoax? Are believers just seeing what they want to see and ignoring contrary evidence or is the opposite true and the nay-sayers discounting that which is right in front of them?"

"Raven," Jax interrupted, "are you going to try to tell us Bigfoot is real and is somehow connected with all of this?"

"Not tonight but it is food for thought isn't it? You are a lady of science; the discovery of a new higher species living in the United States would turn heads and open many doors. I sit here with you and we are at one of those metaphorical doors right now. All I ask is that you keep your minds open; since you haven't already thrown me out I may assume you are willing?"

Jax and I looked at each other and an understanding passed between us. I don't think either of us could have put it into words, nor did we have any clue where it would eventually take us, but we were in agreement. "What the hell." I answered for both of us.

Raven seemed to relax just a slight amount. "Good, now back to last evening. You tracked an alleged identity theft at my request. I apologize for the deception but it did have purpose.

You quickly located a house that you have discovered has had a colorful history. It was abandoned but you experienced some difficult to explain events. Let me propose some slight of hand possibilities.

A door slams and will not open. Wires and a magnetic lock would serve most admirably to replicate that. You heard some sounds but never found a source."

"The bikers," I said.

"Could have been," she agreed.

"The things we saw then," Jax questioned.

"A projector or two maybe."

"The cold?"

"Dry ice and some fans to provide a chill breeze."

Jax shook her head in denial. Somehow we managed to switch sides. Jax and I were arguing that something strange had happened and Raven was giving out rational explanations. Fine then, I had her, "The policeman, he was the one who gave us the history and raised the creepiness factor."

Raven smiled like the Cheshire Cat, "Another accomplice of mine."

"No," Jax pointed and bounced on the sofa like an excited school girl. "No he wasn't. I made the call to nine one one on my own phone. Unless you are part of a government level conspiracy he was a real officer. And even if he was in on the joke, you would not have been able to be sure he would be dispatched to the call. It could have gone to anyone in the area. _And_ we can easily verify his status by requesting a copy of the report along with the detail he gave us. Ergo he was not one of your actors."

Raven calmly set her glass down and leaned back resting her hands on her stomach. "So Dr. Winchester-Holmes what are you telling me then."

"I'm saying you couldn't have staged everything," Jax started off at high speed but quickly slowed. "I'm saying that some things weren't put on, at least some." She stopped thoughtfully.

"Are you saying that some things were not explainable? At least not _rationally_ explainable?"

"I don't know."

I came to Jax side, "So how about you tell us what did happen."

"We have now opened that door I spoke of. You can decide to pass it by, if so I will take my leave and you can keep leading normal, if more questioning lives. If you want to step through, I must give you fair warning, you can never step back. Life will be different, less comfortable and even scary at times. It will also be dangerous. What do you want to do?"

Jax stood up, "I want to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

I watched Raven lit by the firelight, shadows dancing across her features, the flames in her eyes. At that moment she made me uneasy. "What is your purpose? Why us?"

"Legacy," she answered after several heartbeats as if she needed to find the answer herself. "To continue a legacy and you because I thought you might be open enough to handle it. I did not realize I would get a bonus." She nodded towards the hall where Jax went.

"So you do not know all, Jax was a mistake on your part."

"I do not know all, but I would not yet say I have made a mistake."

Jax returned, "So what do we do?" I asked her.

"Let's find out what is on the other side."

"You do this freely of your own will, to paraphrase the movie?"

Jax took my hand, "We do." An electric tingle shot up my arm that had nothing to do with the ghost stories of the night, I was glad for the light to hide my blush.

"You experienced a haunted house."

I waited a moment but it seemed that was all Raven had to say. "That's it, it was a haunted house? That ghosties and ghoulies exist is your big secret."

"Yes, ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. And things that make them quiver. That house has a relatively ordinary ghost, not much danger if you know what you are doing. That is why I had people near to watch over you."

"They know what they are doing?"

"Usually not," she laughed at some private joke, "but they can keep a ghost in line. They are far more dangerous than the ghost.

"My family has a history of tracking thing that should not be and putting them to rest. It made me an orphan at a young age so know that the danger is serious. I took up the mantle until the burden became too great. I had to stop or loose my sanity if not my life. Recently I have been called back to recruit a new generation. You are a part of that."

"Who called you?" I asked. "And why don't you get rid of the ghost in that house? It has apparently killed more than once.

"The answer to your second question is that getting rid of any creature or being is not a simple undertaking. To eliminate a ghost requires either an exorcisim, which is not something you can just ask any priest to stop by to do in an evening. The other option is to find what object or unfinished event is holding the spirit to this world. It takes much research on who the ghost was in life to find that information, then you must figure out what is to be done to lay the spirit to rest. Perhaps we can look into that someday, but not now.

"Now as to who called me, I do not know. That bothers me. He calls himself Cardinal and he is the one who named me Raven. I do know enough to not try and find out his name or who he is; I may not like what I find. I ask you extend me the same courtesy."

"OK then next question, why here?"

"Cardinal suggested it. I had an uncle Karel who lived here in the early seventies. He had an experience though you would be hard pressed to find a record of it, even the altered one you would locate."

Jax' curiosity was coming all out, "What was that?"

"People died and it was covered up. That is all we need for now. I don't want taint you with preconceived ideas."

"What happened to Karel?"

"He traveled about, never settling for more than a year or two before he moved on, usually just ahead of the law or psychiatric commitment. He acted as a guardian when I needed a responsible adult during my teens in Chicago. We were never that close but he believed in helping family. His life was a constant tragedy until he passed a few years back."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Raven answered. "Death is a gift when it comes at its proper time. No greater peace will we ever know."

We all lapsed into silence, Raven lost in some deep memories that she should discuss with Jax on a professional level. Jax continued to hold my hand.

Jax broke the silence with a quiet question, "What about your life?"

"I am a single mother, widowed at a young age. A successful business woman who has seen too much of too many things, I will make the world better for my daughter."

"And us?"

Raven broke out of her reverie. "I would like you to investigate a murder. Keep an open mind, often the obvious explanation is the correct one. If you have theories that run counter to the prevailing opinions, seek to verify them, prove them to yourself as you did here, be skeptical. But if the evidence leads you to a conclusion, find how to deal with that conclusion. There is no prize for second place."

I assumed my professional mode, "What murder? Will you be with us? What about the police?"

"I will have the information sent to your office in the morning. I shall be in contact, but you need to learn for yourself. I am only a guide. The police have their ideas but I think it is a bit too neat. I am not asking you to break the law. You will know what to do when the time comes."


	7. Package

I sat in the office preparing reports for some of my paying clients, waiting on the package. Jax caught up on some of her work down the hall. Email let us keep in contact with each other. We agreed that by the light of day, much of what was discussed seemed ridiculous. It would have bee easy to stage the entire evening. Raven was obviously a troubled soul, she could be being manipulated by another and we were just caught in the middle. I wanted a crack at this case; proving it to be a routine murder might give some leverage to poke holes in Raven's delusions.

Finally, after ten, a package arrived. Coroner's report, autopsy report and crime scene pictures it was like Christmas and couldn't wait to start playing. I called Jax down and we went over the particulars together.

"Let's find out who we have here," I took part of the papers and gave the rest to Jax. "You go first."

Jax started with the coroner's report. "Official Coroner's Report blah, blah, blah, decedent, Hudson, Dwayne AKA 'The River' DOB 6/12/1982, address in North Las Vegas, age twenty-five, height seventy-three inches, weight two hundred twenty two."

"Good sized fella in his prime," I remarked.

"Identifying marks," she continued, "skull tattoo left shoulder, name Maria on left chest, Vicksburg Posse on right forearm, several others."

"Gang banger?" I asked.

Jax held up a finger and kept reading, "Rigor and liver mortis both negative. Occupation, Martial Arts Fighter."

"Martial arts," I thought for a moment before it came to me. I snapped my fingers, "D River Hudson, he's an ultimate fighter or what ever they call it now. I met him a year or so back doing some personal security work. Nice kid, put on a New York accent and attitude but was really from the south. Perennial under card fighter, he knew a little about a lot of different styles but couldn't compete with the top guys. Skip to cause of death."

"You have it."

I pulled out the report and looked it over. I handed it to Jax for translation into English from medical-ese.

"Hmm, interesting."

"Spill it doc, inquiring minds want to know. But be sure and dumb it down to country boy level."

"Ok, this section details several contusions, abrasions and minor broken bones, primarily in the face and wrist. All of that is attributed to his fight earlier in the night."

I shuffled some papers and came up with a flyer and a news clipping, "Here it is Ozeki Hosokawa versus Dwayne 'D. River' Hudson. It was the opening match at last Saturday night's fight on the Strip."

"How did it turn out?"

I read the clipping from Sunday's paper, "The night started on a stunning note as Ozeki Hosokawa, who lost his bid for the title last month, met journeyman D. River Hudson. The former sumo lead with his typical aggressive attack based on open hand slaps but D River had done his homework. He blocked most of Ozeki's attacks and handled the couple that made it through well until he could counter with a leaping knee strike. Ozeki easily turned that attack but realized too late D River was playing him with a feint. D River landed squared and an explosive left fist rocked the recent contender, leaving him wide open for an elbow to the chin. The KO at 51 seconds was by far D River's greatest victory and the most humiliating loss for Hosokawa. Hudson's overall record improved to six and twenty-seven with his second win by knockout; Hosokawa falls for the second straight match to a record of fifteen and three with twelve knockouts."

"Sad," Jax remarked, "his greatest win and less than twelve hours later he's dead." She looked back to the autopsy, "Drugs found in his system were vicodin and high levels of ibuprofen. That makes sense. Cause of death, exsanguination due to severe trauma to the neck made by an unknown tool."

"He bled to death?"

She nodded while looking over the annex noting wounds found. Jax opened the envelope with the scene pictures and spread them on my desk, "Oh my."

I grunted in agreement. The photos showed the late Mr. Hudson lying in a sandy area surrounded by litter. I noted that his body was found under the traffic loop of the Las Vegas Expressway. His face showed fresh cuts and bruising even through his dark skin. It was obvious that he had been in a serious fight. The worst was the neck. The skin was torn open splitting arteries and veins; the trachea could be seen as well. This was not a pleasant death.

"Blood," Jax said.

"What," I didn't understand.

"There is not blood all over the place. A wound like that should have left a big mess."

We shuffled more papers until I found the answer. "According to the police, this is a secondary crime scene. The primary where he was killed has not yet been discovered. The investigation has been turned over to the Organized Crime task force."

"So the police think the mob did this?"

"Maybe the wrong guy won the fight."

"I can see that being possible but let's start questioning the evidence. Somebody thinks there is more to this than meets the eye. Where do we start Gabe?"

"Let's take a look at the scene. I doubt anything was missed, but you never know. Then I think a chat with Ozeki."


	8. Ozeki

The crime scene turned out to be a bust

The crime scene turned out to be a bust. It was a sandy area beneath the freeway, out of sight of just about everything; a great place to ditch a body. Police tape marked the spot where Dwayne was found but any evidence that had been missed had been thoroughly trampled and driven over. We wasted a half hour looking for a missed clue then started to search out his last opponent.

A couple of calls led us to the gym where Ozeki worked out. Jax surfed on her laptop while I drove. She found some interesting facts. First, Ozeki's real name was Minoru Hosokawa, born in Kochi on Shikoku Island Japan. Second, while he did spend several years as a sumo, he never rose above the rank of _Sandanme_, an apprentice. In fact he was forced to retire by rule for failing to advance in rank. The title _Ozeki_ would always be far beyond his reach. Lastly he rapidly had risen in the mixed martial arts ranks until getting his shot at the title. Reading between the lines it could be seen that much money changed hands over his matches. The fight with Dwayne was intended to start his second rise, this time possibly reaching the top. The result probably did not sit well with Ozeki.

The gym was a nice, modern facility. It appeared that Ozeki had the entire place to himself and his entourage; everybody was Japanese. I did not expect it to be long before we were asked to leave so I walked right up to Ozeki while he was eating a cheese burger. He was a large man, at least four hundred pounds but unlike most sumo much of it was flab. His sweat suit was stained with perspiration and desperately needed to be washed. Greasy hair hung down his back, atrocious hygiene for a native of Japan.

"Wha'chu want," he demanded around a mouthful of food.

I sketched a small bow, "I have been asked to look into the untimely death of Dwayne Hudson. I am hoping that you would have a moment to discuss your late opponent."

Ozeki swallowed with a gulp and drank some soda before replying. "Yeah, Hudson, great guy, an honor to have fought him, I am terribly sorry that his life was cut short. Hope you find his killer, nice talking to you _gaijin_, good bye." Every word dripped with insincerity.

Jax spoke as Ozeki started to turn away. "Please Mr. Ozeki; couldn't you talk about your last match?"

Ozeki turned back to Jax and looked her up and down. "Tell ya what, I'll talk to you and you can show me your…"

He was cut off by an older man speaking sharply in Japanese. Ozeki whined in reply but the older man who delivered instructions in a very no-nonsense tone.

Ozeki turned back to us with fire in his eyes but a meek voice, "My… coach has asked me to assist you with what you wish to know."

"Thank you," I answered graciously, "I do not mean to offend but you were very heavily favored in the match. How is it that Dwayne was able to defeat you?"

Ozeki looked back at his coach who gestured sharply at him. "It was overconfidence," Ozeki admitted. "I knew I was the better fighter so did not study him well. I toyed a bit to give a show and thought I would give him a lesson when he attacked with his knee. I never expected that I was being set up or that he could strike so fast. I learned much from that match."

I didn't think that last was directed at us. "Did you talk with Mr. Hudson after the match," Jax asked.

"No, we exchanged the usual post match pleasantries in the ring then never spoke again. I learned of his death in the news like everybody else." Ozeki looked over his shoulder and saw that he was no longer being watched by his coach. He placed a friendly arm around each of our shoulders and began moving us towards the door, though still speaking very pleasantly. "I am sure Hudson went out to celebrate his last victory. I on the other hand had a meeting with my sponsors. Sponsors who like to back a winner and want to back a champion. Sponsor who bet much yen on the outcomes of matches and do not like losing. Are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm sure it wasn't a good meeting."

"See, you aren't as stupid as most people in this country. Now those sponsors have insisted that the person they have invested so much into should win his next match and not stop winning until he is the champion. Now to do that I need sparring partners, not to be weeping over a lucky hack fighter. So you can go cry in your light beer over a dead man while I get back to training. If I ever see you again, you can be my sparring partner; I've been rough on the last ones." He looked down a Jax, "With you I will just be rough. Now get out of my gym and never let me see you again. _Sayonara_."

He gently pushed us at the door which was held open by a pair of tough looking young Japanese. They followed us out and one pointed down the street; I could see at the edge of his cuff, his arm was elaborately tattooed. "Go," he ordered.

"Well that wasn't too helpful."

"I hoped for more," I admitted. "I am pretty sure that Ozeki was not directly responsible for Dwayne's death."

"His sponsors?" Jax asked.

"_Yakusa_," I nodded, "Japanese equivalent to the mafia. They could have done it but I don't see what they would hope to gain. If anything, they could have recouped much of their loss by forcing Ozeki into a rematch. Let's go somewhere you can play with your computer and look more into Dwayne's background."


	9. Dwayne and Murphy

Dwayne emerged as a surprisingly deep person

Dwayne emerged as a surprisingly deep person. His early life was easily found in the newspaper capsule biographies. Born in Vicksburg Mississippi, he led a troubled youth. He ran with the gangs and was often in conflict with the law. In his teen, while doing time in juvenile detention, a counselor introduced him to karate. Dwayne had found an outlet for his excess of energy.

He took any classes he could once he was released, often paying for them by performing chores for his teachers. Dwayne learned tae kwan do, boxing and judo in addition to karate. He started attending school regularly as several teachers required proof of good grades in order for him to continue.

During his senior year Dwayne entered his first tournament and won the youth sparring competition. The excitement of winning and being looked up to drew him more into his hobby until it became a job. He showed enough promise to come to Las Vegas to try his hand here. That is when reality reared its ugly head. After a couple of amateur victories he moved into the pro ranks and found that there were people much better than he was. Victories came rarely while losses came often, at the hands and feet of those who specialized in a few forms.

Dwayne worked as a sparring partner for better fighter while still making the occasional appearance on cards. He remembered his past and volunteered teaching youth around the city.

It took until late afternoon before we located Dwayne's trainer. Murphy was an old school Irish boxer who had hung his gloves up nearly forty years ago. All I could think of was Burgess Meredith in _Rocky_.

We tracked him to a one bedroom apartment off the beaten track in a run down 1950's type neighborhood. When we told him we wanted to talk about Dwayne he brought us to a tiny kitchen table.

"Sit down," Murphy told us while pouring coffee without asking. "You want to know about Dwayne? Good kid, real good for a colored."

Jax noticeably cleared her throat.

Murphy looked apologetic, "Sorry Miss, I mean no disrespect. I grew up in a less sensitive day and I sometimes forget my manners. No, no disrespect at all. Dwayne was a man I was proud to know."

He set cups in front of all of us and sat down. "Tell us about him please," Jax asked.

"Heart of a lion," Murphy boasted, "a true fighter, unfortunately with the skills of an alley cat. I always tried to tell him he wasted too much time on that kung fu stuff and focus on boxing. He'd just laugh me off and tell me it was a mixed competition and keep kicking, jabbing and elbowing.

He could take a beating like a man; what a boxer he would have made. He lost a lot but it was never easy on the other guy. I saw the skill he had with that left. I taught him that." He said proudly. "He knew Ozeki was too cocksure and would leave an opening. 'Dwayne,' I told him, 'you open him up then use that left. You'll rock that arrogant bum back on his heels, yessir' and he did. Damn it he did just that then finished that big boy with the elbow. Maybe there was something to that kung fu stuff at that." I noticed a tear rolling down Murphy's check. "Maybe there was something at that," he repeated.

I placed a hand on the old fighter's wrist; he covered mine with his other. "Who would want Dwayne dead?"

"Nobody," Murphy shook his head still in denial, "nobody at all. He was in good with the gang kids; mobs never took note of him. He gave to everyone. After the match I helped him clean up, he said he was going to go to the shelter. Can you believe that, going to the shelter after winning his biggest match?"

"What shelter?"

"Didn't you know? He volunteered at the Heart of Gold. It's a soup kitchen near the VA. He helped out there twice a week, though lately he had been going more often."

"Do you know why?"

"No, said there was something troubling some of the regulars and he wanted to help out. 'Fraid I didn't pay attention to the details."

"It's ok," I assured him, "you've been a big help."

"Do you have any other fighters you are training?" Jax asked.

"Dwayne was the last," he replied softly. "It may be time to finally take retirement. Let the younger guys have their shot."

With nothing more to say we said our goodbyes and he walked us to the door. "You find who did this and give them to the cops. They need to pay for what they did."

"We'll do that," I promised. "Do you know when he left the arena? It must have taken some time to patch him up after a tough fight like that."

"Eh?" Murphy stopped at the door. "He was out a half hour after the match. Hardly had a scratch; the big galoot couldn't lay a good shot on Dwayne. I gave him some pain killers and he took a shower."

That didn't match the report or what we saw in the photos, "No cuts or bruises?"

"None," Murphy replied, "only one solid hit and Dwayne took that on the side of the head. It gave him a headache."

We would have to look those injuries over again. "Thanks."

Jax stopped at the door, "Murphy, would you consider training a woman?"

"What?" I exclaimed.

"The ring ain't no place for no lady." Murphy had a touch of fire in his gravelly voice.

"Not for the ring," she explained. "Working with Gabe takes me around some rough types and I think it would be a good idea to learn to take care of myself."

"Wouldn't you rather learn that ladies' kung fu?"

"Nope," she shook her head, "I don't think they teach what I would need. I think it would take someone with experience to teach me to fight."

Murphy looked her up and down, entirely different from the way Ozeki did, "Ain't got much muscle," he critiqued, "not much weight either. We could fix that with some work if ya ain't afraid of sweat. I bet you would have good speed and footwork. I'll tell the truth, I ain't ever trained no lady before but you look like your root may touch the old sod. If you're willing lass, I'll teach ya."

"When do I start?"

"You know the gym I worked with Dwayne?" Jax nodded. "Monday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings and Saturday Mornings in the gym, I'll give you workouts to do for the other days of the week and a diet. We start Monday at seven. Don't buy any gloves and come in sweats and don't be late," he ordered.

I told Jax she was crazy and she stuck her tongue at me in answer. I thought that was very mature for a psychiatrist. We left with light hearts, knowing that we had brought an ounce of happiness to an old man.


End file.
